


Wing Commander: Deep Strike Part II

by StrykerAFOC



Series: Wing Commander: Deep Strike [3]
Category: Wing Commander
Genre: Confed, Gen, Kilrathi, Kilrathy Empire, TCS, Terrain Confederation, Wing Commander - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-20
Updated: 2016-08-20
Packaged: 2018-08-09 19:17:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7813906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrykerAFOC/pseuds/StrykerAFOC
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the destruction of a Kilrathy convoy Task Force Armstrong must resupply, it is a dangerous time, Kilrathy fleet patrols are out in force searching for them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wing Commander: Deep Strike Part II

Deep Strike part II  
Menazoid System  
March 30, 2668  
TCS Armstrong translated the jump point and entered the Menazoid system. The jump point was located near the red giant that served as the system’s sun. The entire system was devoid of life, the planets that would have been in the golden zone were absorbed when the sun expanded, the science council had theorized that the star had about another six or seven million years before it burnt itself out, all that remained was the four gas giants in the outer system.  
  
Already waiting was the three escorting destroyers, the TCS Corinth, TCS Santa Fe, and the TCS Bremen, they had gone ahead to secure the far side after the broadsword patrol reported all clear. Fighter patrols were out and the spyglass fighters were already reaching their waypoints to extend the range of the sensors.  
  
With the entire Task Force Armstrong reassembled, Blonski ordered all ships to make for the third gas giant. Of all the time spent behind enemy lines this was always the most nerve wracking, they were low on heavy ordinance and needed replacement parts. They had spent the last eight days evading Kilrathi patrols looking for them. One had come close to revealing their location two jump points back, quick thinking and several torpedoes from broadswords had stopped them from reporting their position.  
  
As the Task Force approached the planet, they began broadcasting a challenge signal and waited for a reply. After a few minutes a reply signal was received with instruction on a vector to proceed.  
  
On the far side of the planet, hidden near the largest moon was four tender ships, as the Task Force approached they could make out the two escort destroyers hidden among them, ready to pounce on any threat.  
  
Beyond the small flotilla and moored to a fifth tender was an escort carrier. Rowle magnified the image of the carrier to identify it. ‘That’s the Selfridge,’ he said.  
  
‘Where are her escorts?’ Blonski asked as there were no other ships on the holo-map.  
  
The holo-map began showing the details of the TCS Selfridge, another Wave class escort carrier as the Armstrong. It was heavily damaged, repair drones and shuttles were patching up the hull areas that exposed the inside to the vacume of space. But what caught Blonski’s attention was the missing command tower.  
  
‘Sir signal from the destroyer TCS Hera, Commander Xian,’ the communications officer reported from her position.  
  
‘Send it through to holo if you don’t mind,’ Blonski replied.  
  
After a few moments the holographic of the tender fleet shrunk down and Xian appeared.  
  
‘Captain Blonski, it is good to see your Task Force.’ The skipper of the destroyer said.  
  
‘Good to see you too Commander,’ Blonski replied, ‘What happened to the Selfridge?’  
  
‘Her task force was ambushed in the Lakora system, all three escorts and all but twelve fighters were lost covering her retreat.’ Xian said as a digital report was sent over on a secure channel. ‘Captain Bulong is dead as was most of the bridge crew, Commander Fraye is seriously wounded and is in my surgical bay, docs don’t think she is going to make it. We’re repairing what damage we can, but she’ll need at least six months in a dock before she’s ready to fight again.’  
  
The door to the bridge opened and Colonel McKenzie walked in and looked around then seeing Blonski motioning him to join them at the holo-map he walked over to join the conversation, and was quickly brought up to speed on the Selfridge.  
  
Blonski looked at Rowle, ‘Take three teams and whatever they need and take command of the Selfridge, you have seventy-two hours to get her ready to move.’  
  
‘Yes sir,’ Rowle replied and headed over to a call terminal in the rear of the bridge to make his preparation.  
  
‘The Confederation can’t take anymore carrier losses,’ Blonski said to Xian and McKenzie, ‘If the Selfridge isn’t ready to move in seventy-two hours, or if we get spotted before then, I’m ordering her scuttled.’  
  
Both men nodded their understanding.  
  
McKenzie was the first to break the silence, ‘I’ve got wildcat patrols out covering all approaches, they will alert us if anything moves out there.’  
  
‘Commander Xian, this is Colonel McKenzie, he is the ranking Space Force officer, I want the fighters units assigned to you and the TCS to begin reporting to him.’  
  
‘Yes sir, I’ll have the rosters and status sent immediately,’ said Xian.  
  
‘Mac, you have the picket duty, anything that comes out of the jump points needs to be identified immediately.’  
  
‘You got it.’  
  
*****  
  
It took Rowle two hours to assemble a team of engineers and the supplies they needed, he exited the shuttle carrying a small duffle bag with some personal affects. Behind him was eleven engineers led by Lieutenant Commander Patricia Leeds.  
  
Waiting for them was Lieutenant Commander Krazinski the only surviving engineering officer onboard the Selfridge, he was in his mid-thirties, he had short cropped blonde hair and gray eyes. He had a fresh scars on his right cheek from his eye to his chin. ‘Welcome onboard sir,’ he said saluting Rowle.  
  
Rowle returned the salute, ‘Thank you Commander, sorry to hear about Commander Gallows.’ Gallows was the chief engineer onboard the Selfridge for the last two years, he had been killed when a fusion power generator overloaded and exploded while he and three other engineers were attempting to bypass the fused couplings.  
  
‘Thank you sir, I’ve tried to carry on the way he trained us.’ Krazinski said, ‘Did you know him?’  
  
‘Yes, I served with him on the Dover during our first assignment out of Fleet Academy. But where are my manners,’ Rowle continued, ‘This is Lieutenant Commander Leeds, I brought her and two teams to back you up, she will be your go to person for anything you need. Let’s get started, give me a rundown as you escort me to the bridge.’  
  
Leeds led the engineering team to the second shuttle that followed them in to pull out all the supplies they brought along, Krazinski briefed Rowle as they walked to the bridge.  
  
‘Well for starters we have the hopper drive repaired and functional, the armor on deck two where the command bridge was is nearly repaired, we were taking armored doors from the storage bays and using them as replacement panels.’  
  
‘Are they holding?’  
  
‘Surprising, yes they are, Chief Watson and his team came up with the idea.’  
  
‘How are the shield generators?’  
  
‘Forward is back online, but the rear projectors are damaged beyond repair, we’re working on building new ones, hopefully we can get parts from the Armstrong to finish it.’  
  
They arrived at the auxiliary bridge and the guard standing in front opened the hatch for them. Inside there were the surviving command crews, they were running system checks and making repairs. After the main bridge was destroyed they were able to control the Selfridge from here and maneuver her out of the ambush.  
  
‘Captian on deck,’ a young ensign yelled out as Rowle walked in, the entire crew came to attention.  
  
‘As you were, no need for ceremony until this ship is ready to move,’ Rowle said waving everyone back to their jobs, ‘There will be enough time for introductions later, start feeding me the status on work details.’  
  
‘Yes sir,’ the ensign said as she brought up a data-pad, ‘I’m Ensign Malloy, I’ve been running the command crew since we lost Captain Bulong and Commander Fraye.’  
  
‘You’ve done a good job, now let’s get to work, we got a long way to go.’  
  
April 1, 2668  
Command Deck TCS Armstrong  
  
‘Captain to the bridge,’ the voice over the internal address system called out. It had been thirty-three hours, the repair work on the Selfridge was finally gaining ground, but still a long way before she was combat ready.  
  
The doors to the bridge opened up and Blonski walked in, ‘Status,’ he asked as he took his chair.  
  
‘Patrols tracked a ship coming through the jump point,’ the tactical officer announced. ‘It’s broadcasting Confed signals.’  
  
Blonski looked at the information on the datapad handed to him, it was remotely connected to the sensors so he could manipulate the information. The newcomer was not just broadcasting, it was practically yelling it was there. ‘Send a narrow beam transmission to the patrol, have them intercept and shut this fool up before they bring a Kilrathy fleet down on us.’  
  
Twenty hours earlier a Kilrathy patrol had bypassed the system, the Task Force had powered down all non-essentials just to be on the safe side.  
  
Forty minutes later, the new ship pulled up next to the Armstrong and docked with the external airlock, it was the TCS Olympia, an older frigate class used by Confed Space Force, designed for deep penetration reconnaissance. Blonski was waiting at the airlock, he was furious that the commander of the scout ship acted so recklessly.  
  
The airlock door opened and a Major in a flight suite step through and saluted, ‘Sir, I’m Major Udon,’ he was short and his skin was a deep dark brown.  
  
Blonski didn’t return the salute, ‘Major why did you disregard procedures…..’ he trailed off as Udon held up a data chip encased in a tamper proof courier tube.  
  
‘Sorry sir,’ said Udon, ‘Admiral Castier said to get your attention before handing you this, and we need the Captain of the Selfridge here as well.’  
  
Blonski took the tube, ‘Bulong is dead, follow me,’ he barked turning around and headed for his office. Once inside he unsealed the data chip and loaded it in a stand-alone monitor. ‘Do you know what’s on this?’ he asked Udon.  
  
‘No sir, I was just dispatched to find you and Captain Bulong and deliver the chip.’  
  
Blonski broke the seal, inserted the chip into the monitor on his desk, and pressed the activate key and watched. A Confed Navy emblem lit up the screen for a few moments, then the voice of Admiral Castier started. ‘Captains Bulong and Blonski, you are to relocate to Demonstrata System and meet up with other elements, more information will be available once you’ve reached your destination.’ A map of the Demonstrata System showed on the screen, with a set of coordinates to rendezvous with other Confed Task Forces.  
‘Do you have anything to add?’ Blonski asked Udon.  
  
‘I’m to attach the Olympia to your combined task force until we get to Demonstrata,’ Udon replied.  
  
‘Well the destroyers in the Selfridge’s task force were destroyed and the Selfridge itself is in no condition to go into battle.’  
  
‘Sorry sir, his orders were to bring all ships.’  
  
‘Fine, we’ll leave in thirty hours, that’ll give the engineering teams time to make repairs. In the mean time you can report to Colonel McKenzie to get your assignment.’  
  
*****  
  
Blonski sat in the command chair reviewing the status report of Selfridge, Rowle and the engineering teams did a good job, against all odds, she had shields back, and anti-fighter batteries. She wouldn’t be going toe-to-toe with other big ships, but at least she’ll act as a launch platform.  
  
A new icon appeared on the datapad, Blonski tapped it and opened it up, it was from sensors reporting that all Confederation ships were in position to move out. It was a delicate process, the tenders were vulnerable and if they were discovered by the force that ambushed the Selfridge it could be a disaster, but with the amount of fighters, bombers, and the destroyers they were in good shape, they just had to stay vigilant, and pray for good luck.  
  
Blonski picked up a handset and activated the fleet wide channel, ‘Attention Task Force Armstrong,’ he said, all the bridges of the ships would have heard it over their loud speakers. ‘We are about to begin our long journey to the ordered coordinates, keep your eyes open and be ready for anything,’ he paused, ‘All ships move out in order.’  
  
The ships that made up the tiny fleet powered up their engines and began to speed up. Leading was Commander Xian’s destroyer TCS Hera, followed by the Armstrong, then behind them the tenders traveling in a diamond formation the destroyers Corinth and Santa Fe took up flanking positions. Behind them came the TCS Selfridge with the Olympia as a close support, and in the rear the last two destroyers, Bremen and Bogota.  
  
Each destroyer was lighter by three fighters, and the Armstrong by six, all moved over to the Selfridge. McKenzie had done a good job in shuffling around the pilots and craft, providing the best fighter and bomber coverage they could manage.  
  
The fleet approached the jump point, Hera prepared to jump and secure the other side.  
  
Sensor Specialist Akiru checked the read out again, a ship had come through the jump point. ‘Contact, bearing two-four-zero by one-seven-five, it’s on top of the Hera!’  
  
‘General Quarters!’ Blonski barked, klaxons began blaring, he walked over to the holo-map, Lieutenant Commander Hill joined him, she had stepped in to take over for Rowles as the ex-oh. Sensors began feeding the data to the holo-map.  
  
‘Getting a recognition signal,’ said Akiru, ‘It’s Confed, standby for identification,’ he paused for a second, ‘TCS Constantine, destroyer class.’  
Blonski looked at Hill, ‘Constantine?’  
  
‘It was one of the Selfridge escorts,’ Hill replied.  
  
‘All weapons target that vessel,’ Blonski ordered, ‘Until we verify they are who they say they are, treat that vessel as a hostile.’  
  
‘Receiving a transmission,’ Jansen said.  
  
‘Put it on the overhead,’ said Hill.  
  
The overhead speakers came to life, ‘This is Commander Van Braun of the TCS Constantine to Confed fleet, please respond.’  
  
Blonski picked up the handset and activated the ship-to-ship, ‘Attention ship claiming to be the Constantine, do not approach or you will be fired upon.’  
  
‘Wait, we have lots of wounded,’ Van Braun’s voice replied.  
  
‘I understand, but you need to realize your ship was reported as lost in combat,’ Blonski replied, ‘Shut your engines down and prepare to be boarded.’  
‘They’re powering down,’ Akiru announced.  
  
‘Contact the Hera and have them send over a boarding team to check them out.’  
  
The minutes ticked by, the shuttle from the Hera had docked with the Constantine’s outer docking hatch, as the damage to the launch and recovery bay was significant. Blonski and Hill monitored the radio chatter between the Hera’s boarding party as they made their way to the bridge. Lieutenant Shultz, the security chief of the Hera led the party and was relaying everything he saw.  
  
Hearing enough, Blonski ordered Van Braun to transfer over to the Armstrong. ‘Commander,’ he started as Van Braun walked up to the holo-map, ‘We don’t have a lot of time, what happened?’  
  
Van Braun took a deep breathe, his uniform was in tatters and his left forearm was tightly wrapped in gauze and medical tape. ‘After the Selfridge was able to make it through the jump point, Lieutenant Commander Neilson, God rest his soul, was able to jury-rig a power conduit to jump start engines, but he was doused with a lethal blast of radiation that killed him and seven other engineers.’  
  
‘Go on.’  
  
‘I tried to get the Selfridge’s fighters and bombers to dock with us, but all we could do was tractor in the ejection pods, the rest threw themselves at the Kilrathi, giving us time to hop out and we’ve been chased ever since.’  
  
‘How far behind you are they?’  
  
‘Six hours, seven at the most.’  
  
‘What is the status of your ship?’  
  
‘Jump engines are taxed, the hopper engine are inoperable, shields and armor are nearly gone….more than a third of my crew is dead, just about everyone is wounded.’  
  
Blonski looked at Hill, then back at Van Braun, ‘We can’t wait to repair your ship, and if the enemy is that close behind we don’t have time anyway. I want everyone and what vital equipment and parts transferred off the Constantine in two hours.’  
  
For two hours shuttles from the fleet docked with the Constantine, first the wounded were transferred, then critical parts, and finally the remainder of the crew. All were safely onboard the Selfridge. The fleet jumped to the Havi system the first leg of long journey to link up with the main fleet.  
  
****  
  
Three hours later the Kilrathi patrol, one cruiser and two scout ships entered the Menazoid system and locked on to the Constantine. ‘What is the status of the ape ship?’ Shintahr Haglahr barked at his bridge crew.  
  
‘It is drifting without power sir,’ replied a Kilrathi officer.  
  
‘Ready a boarding party.’  
  
Multiple boarding shuttles, carrying five sixes of warriors attached to different areas of the Constantine hull where they cut their way in. Once inside they made their way deck by deck, room by room. The leader of the boarding company relayed that the ship was abandoned and in disrepair.  
  
Haglahr stood up from his command chair and raised both arm above his head, ‘Inform Khantahr Loregara we have a prize for him.’ The six ships in the patrol closed in on the Constantine and began rigging it to be towed as a war prize. Haglahr thought about how the clan leaders would reward him for capturing the ape vessel. ‘Send repair teams, I want that ship in running condition when it is presented.’  
  
Nine hours later the remainder of the Kilrathi battle fleet emerged from the jump point. Khantahr Loregara growled his approval of the captured destroyer, ‘It is a great prize,’ he said to Haglahr, ‘The royals will be pleased.’  
  
‘Thank you my Khantahr,’ Haglahr image on the front view monitor replied, ‘It is ready for your inspection.’  
  
‘There is no time, I must find the ape support fleet and put a stop to their puny raids, for now my first son will take command of that ship and you will escort it to Kilrah.’  
  
‘Yes Khantahr.’  
First Fang sar-Loregara snapped to attention and saluted, ‘Thank you father for this opportunity.’  
  
‘Go make our clan proud.’

The shuttle bearing sar-Loregara docked with the Constantine, the first born of Khantahr Loregara made his way to the bridge and declared himself the master of the vessel. He immediately ordered the engines powered up and the escort ships to fall into line.  
  
With him on the bridge was his hand selected command team, many had been with him since they were old enough to fight in the war with terrains. ‘Engines are at seventy percent,’ reported one of his officers, ‘Shields are at the ready First Fang,’ said another.  
  
‘Good, helm make course for the jump point,’ sar-Loregara ordered, ‘Navigation, plot jumps to get us to Kilrah….’  
  
‘First Fang, I’m getting a power build-up in the port engines,’ growled the officer at the operations station.  
  
‘What do you mean a build-up?’  
  
‘I have no control of it, I can’t shut it down, it is going to go critical.’  
  
‘How long?’  
  
‘No time……..’ the officer didn’t finish his reply, the Constantine’s port engine exploded the damaged engine, sending rippling explosions throughout the ship. The resulting blast wave caught a scout ship, destroying it and damaging Haglahr’s cruiser.  
  
The Confederation personnel had known how big of a prize the Constantine would make and rigged the engines to feed-back on itself, causing it to self-destruct when they were powered up.  
  
Khantahr Loregara stood quickly from his command chair and yelled at the top of his lungs, ‘NO!, my son.’ After a few minutes he sat down, visibly extracting and retracting his claws, shaking in anger and grief. None of the bridge crew dared to approach the enraged Kilrathi for fear of indiscriminant reprisal. ‘I want scouts tracking all possible destinations from the jump point. Bring me Haglahr,’ he said to his body guards.


End file.
